Careful What You Wish For
by boobookittybone
Summary: A chance encounter between Dr. Eleanor Boaz and Damon Baird sparks something more between the two, even as the Locust continue their war on humanity.
1. Chapter 1

The base was relatively quiet for the time of night, and Eleanor was grateful for the moderate silence. She could hear some of the soldiers milling around, most of them were undoubtedly on night patrol. However, Eleanor knew that some of them were probably making use of the new, late hours of the nearby bar. And they were the last ones that Eleanor wanted to be caught by. Sure, she could handle herself, but if Eleanor could avoid a confrontation with a drunk soldier, all the better.

As she began down the hallway back to her quarters, Eleanor heard a rather loud, obnoxious yelling. Flinching, Eleanor slowed her pace as she drew closer to the commotion. It was obviously a male voice, and it sounded faintly familiar. As Eleanor got closer, she recognized the voice.

It was Baird.

Peeking around the corner of the hallway, she saw the blonde-haired Gear...yelling angrily at a vending machine. He was even threatening the thing with a wrench, no less, and looked about ready to put the wrench through the glass of the soda vending machine.

"Baird?" Eleanor asked quietly.

Either he didn't hear her or didn't care, or both, because Baird continued to yell at the vending machine and wave the wrench in front of it threateningly. As she began to quietly walk up to the blonde Gear, Eleanor was hit with the unmistakable smell of very potent liquor and she scrunched her nose up. When Baird yelled another curse at the vending machine, Eleanor heard the undeniable slur in his words and realized that he was drunk. Staggeringly so, from the looks and smell of it.

"Baird?" Eleanor repeated, raising an eyebrow and the volume of her voice.

"What?" Baird asked angrily, turning around with the wrench half-raised. When he saw Eleanor, he stopped, looking both confused and irritated. What the hell did this woman want? To his credit, though, he did lower the wrench and tilted his head to the side. "...th' hell're you doin' here?"

"Just going for an evening walk," Eleanor answered, taking a cautious step towards Baird. "Um...why are you arguing with the vending machine?"

Baird looked over his shoulder at the machine with a nonplussed look, then back at Eleanor. His world was spinning, and he swayed slightly even while standing. Eleanor could only guess how much alcohol it had taken to get the Gear drunk.

"Damn th'ng took money...no soda."

"Baird, look down," Eleanor advised.

"Whu? Why?"

Sighing, Eleanor stepped forward and picked up the still cold soda can from the floor between Baird's feet. She stood up and held the soda up to Baird, who seemed genuinely surprised by the soda can.

"You must be really, really drunk," Eleanor said, raising an eyebrow.

"No 'm not," Baird slurred back, narrowing his eyes. He swiped at the soda can, missing it completely. Snorting indignantly, he shrugged. "...mebbe' a little."

"Maybe we should get you to bed," Eleanor advised.

"'m not tired, dammit," Baird sneered. "'m fine. Not tired 'n not drunk."

"Really? Well, then you need a new cologne, Mister Baird, as it has the undeniable smell of vodka, rum, and what I can only guess is everclear. Dear lords, Baird, how much did you drink?"

"...asshole said 'e could dr'nk more 'den me," Baird answered with a smug grin, swaying slightly again. "...proved 'im wrong."

"Congratulations," Eleanor said flatly. She was still holding the soda can, and by now, her fingertips were going numb. "Come on, Baird, you need to lay down before you fall down."

"...no," Baird snapped back. He stepped away from Eleanor, frowning.

"This way," Eleanor beckoned, holding up the soda. Baird blinked and stepped towards Eleanor slowly, taking another swipe at the soda can...and missing again.

Fortunately, in his drunken state, Baird seemed to be a bit more pliable and open to coaxing, and he followed Eleanor...cursing every step of the way. Eleanor ignored Baird's cursing, and he was fortunately quiet enough with his grumbling that she was fairly sure she could at least get him back to her quarters without drawing attention to either of them.

While she didn't really relish the idea of having a drunk Baird in her quarters, Eleanor wasn't going to risk trying to get him to the barracks. Far too big of a chance that they would run into another drunk soldier looking for a fight, or worse, a commanding officer to whom Baird would proceed to give a very, very honest and blunt opinion of as loudly as he possibly could.

Baird staggered and almost fell forward, but Eleanor managed to grab his arm and steady him. Baird growled in protest, but said nothing. Falling on his face was not exactly ideal, and if Eleanor was willing to keep him from doing that, then so be it.

"Come on, you drunk idiot," Eleanor muttered, throwing Baird's arm over her shoulders. "We're almost there."

"'most where?" Baird asked, looking around in mild confusion.

"Look, we're here."

Baird stared at the doorway to Eleanor's quarters as though it were a portal to another dimension.

"...th's ain't my room," he grumbled to Eleanor, looking down at her.

"I know, but I'm not going to take the chance of your drunken ass being caught by a commanding officer-"

"...fuck 'em."

"-or somebody else that really will get in a fight with you. That vending machine was being nice, you know. Did exactly what you told it to."

"...fuck 'em, too. 'n especially that vendin' machine. ...asshole."

Sighing, Eleanor unlocked the door and almost had to drag Baird into the room. It was sparsely decorated, and fortunately Eleanor kept the room clean. The last thing she needed was Baird tripping over a misplaced shoe or article of clothing.

Setting the soda can down on the small table off in the kitchen area of the room, Eleanor heard the springs of her bed mattress squeak loudly. She turned and saw Baird sitting on the mattress, trying to figure out how to remove his boots. Apparently they were tied just well enough to prove problematic for a drunk Gear.

Shaking her head, Eleanor walked forward and knelt down.

"Move your-Baird, move your hands," she commanded, lightly batting Baird's hands away from the boot laces.

Baird snorted in indignation and muttered something about a 'commanding bitch,' but Eleanor ignored it. After she got the first boot off, Baird fell quiet and watched her with what looked to be almost fascination as she untied the knot in the boot laces. Her slender fingers undid the knots with an ease that he couldn't even hope to replicate at this point.

"There," Eleanor stated, pulling the second boot off. "You're good to go."

In response, Baird flopped back on the mattress, and Eleanor winced as she heard Baird's head make contact with the wall her bed was pushed up against.

"Ow!" Baird yelped, grabbing at his head. "Mother of-you...you son of bitch!"

Stifling a quiet giggle, Eleanor leaned forward slightly, trying to see if Baird was really hurt or if it was just his pride that had taken the hit. Baird was curled up slightly, holding both hands tightly on the top of his head, and still hissing a vile string of curses through tightly gritted teeth.

"You okay?"

"It sound like 'm okay?" Baird demanded angrily, still clutching at his head. He paused, still grimacing, and stared at Eleanor. "Whaddya' want?"

"I'm trying to make sure you didn't give your fool self a concussion, Baird," Eleanor sighed.

"I...do not...appreciate bein' 'nsulted," Baird answered, jabbing a finger at Eleanor.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," Eleanor replied with a faint smirk.

"...damn right yer' sorry."

"Let me see your head," Eleanor said, climbing onto the mattress and standing on her knees.

"...which one?" Baird asked with a leering grin.

Though she felt a hot flare of a blush on her face, Eleanor managed to give Baird an exasperated look and she reached over, prying his hands away from the top of his head. She winced slightly when she saw a tinge of pink in his mess of blonde hair.

"You cracked your head good and proper. I'm lucky you didn't leave a dent in-" It was at about that point that Eleanor realized Baird was carefully and slowly unbuttoning her pale blue blouse. He had managed to make his way four buttons up before, lightly tracing the faint muscle contours on her stomach with his index finger..

"Damon S Baird!" Eleanor shrieked, pulling away and standing back up on her knees. She stared at Baird in flustered confusion.

"Whaaaat?" Baird asked, obviously irritated. "I didn't hurt ya'..."

"You scared the hell out of me."

"Sissy."

Eleanor narrowed her eyes and looked Baird over quickly. He was in combat fatigue pants and a white tank top. Nothing she could really get proper revenge with.

"Well how would you like it if I suddenly slid my hand up your shirt?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Ya' wanna' find out?" Baird replied with a smug grin.

"Oh my lords, I'm stuck in a room with a pre-pubescent high schooler," Eleanor grumbled, covering her face with her palm.

Baird shrugged, still grinning smugly, and then spread his arms slightly.

"...yer choice, toots."

Eleanor was caught somewhere between indignant fuming and smoldering desire. After a few split seconds, her resolve crumbled and her hand slid deftly under the white shirt.

Baird grunted in surprise and looked at Eleanor, blinking as quickly as his alcohol-soaked senses would allow. Eleanor paused, raising an eyebrow and watching Baird closely. So far he had been a tolerable enough drunk, but the last thing she wanted was to have him angry at her.

"Didn't think ya' had it in ya', doc," Baird finally replied, snickering.

"...hmph, not like I could just let a dare like that slide," Eleanor replied, her hand sliding up over Baird's abs and lightly tracing her nails against the muscle contours.

"...hrmm...what else coulda' dare ya' to do?" Baird asked slowly, propping himself up on his elbows after some effort.

Her pulse was racing and her mouth felt incredibly dry, but Eleanor managed a smirk and shrugged.

"You're a creative sort. I'm sure you'll think of something." Eleanor looked down at her hands, while her right hand was under Baird's shirt, the left had already hooked her index and middle fingers into one of his belt loops.

What the hell was she doing? Granted, she was technically a civilian doctor, so neither she nor Baird would be in any real trouble for this. The worst that Baird would be dealing would be, possibly, drunkenness and disorderly conduct against a vending machine. That and one nightmare of a hangover. The worst that Eleanor would have to deal with would be her conscious of taking advantage of a drunken Gear.

And what would happen when Baird had sobered up? Eleanor had to admit she was quite shocked to find out that Baird was this much of a flirtatious drunk. True, he was still an asshole, but Eleanor would have bet big money that Baird's temper would have gotten worse with every drink. And there was nothing to say that Baird wouldn't turn his temper and acid tongue on Eleanor once the alcohol had finally left his system. Eleanor would be a sitting duck and she-

A rush of cool air washed across her chest and Eleanor immediately realized that Baird had managed to unbutton the rest of her blouse. Her emerald eyes wide, Eleanor looked down at Baird quickly. He appeared quite pleased with himself, and had already hooked a calloused index finger on the left strap of Eleanor's black bra.

"Damn, lady," Baird muttered. "...th' hell ya' wear those baggy clothes?"

"Comfort," Eleanor said tensely. Her right hand had slid to Baird's side, and he shifted slightly, then grinned and tugged on Eleanor's bra just hard enough to make her topple on top of him. Eleanor muffled her squeak of surprise, but immediately her already racing thoughts kicked into overdrive. She had to do something.

"...that's better," he smirked.

"Baird, you're drunk-"

_Shut up and give in, already!_

"-we really shouldn't be doing this. You-"

_This is the man that has had you in fits for months!_

"-are probably drunker than you have ever been and-"

_Shut up and screw him senseless._

"-you aren't thinking clearly. You may end up-"

_Fuck. Him. Now._

Eleanor didn't get a chance to finish her last sentence. Baird grabbed her face with both hands, with surprising care, no less, before leaning forward and pressing his lips firmly against Eleanor's.

Whatever last bastion of resolve and willpower Eleanor had evaporated and she leaned into the kiss, crawling towards Baird carefully and straddling him. Her tongue ran across Baird's bottom lip before her teeth gently grazed across it. Baird made a rather pleased sounding noise before sitting up slowly, one hand going to the back of Eleanor's head and grasping her thick, rust colored hair, while the other clutched at her lower back, holding her steady as Baird sat up.

Eleanor shuddered slightly in a wild mixture of anticipation, excitement, and trepidation. There wasn't really any turning back now. She'd given in and there was no stopping now.

...not that she really wanted to at this point.

Her hand freed themselves from Baird's clothing and her fingers plunged into the tangled mess of Baird's blonde hair. Eleanor pulled away slightly to catch her breath, but Baird gave her no such luxury. The moment she pulled away, he pulled her right back, biting down on her bottom lip and kissing her before working the kisses down her neck.

"Baird," Eleanor whispered hoarsely, clutching at Baird's back. Her nails dug in against his shirt, and she could feel his muscles go taut as he held her still. She gripped the sides of Baird's shirt, tugging at it insistently. Baird obliged, lifting his arms so that Eleanor could pull his shirt off. She tossed it aside, and immediately began kissing Baird's neck and then his right shoulder.

Growling lowly in approval, Baird tangled his fingers in Eleanor's hair as she nipped at his shoulder gently, then trailed her kisses back up his neck. Baird suddenly pulled Eleanor back to him and kissed her deeply as he quickly pulled her unbuttoned blouse off. He threw it unceremoniously to the foot of the bed and began fumbling with the clasp on Eleanor's bra.

"...mother...fuckin'...hate...stupid goddamn female...contrapshun," Baird cursed, his fingers slipping on the clasp. Even sober he would have had trouble with the infernal clasp, but being drunk made it a million times more difficult.

"Want help?" Eleanor asked, stifling a giggle.

"...gimme'," Baird demanded, pulling on the bra firmly.

"All right, all right, don't stretch one of my few good bras," Eleanor said, reaching behind and carefully undoing the clasp with a single pinch of her fingers.

Upon realizing that the bra was unclasped, Baird practically yanked it off and threw it to the side. Eleanor made a small noise of surprise, but her gasp soon turned to a quiet moan as Baird began to kiss down her chest. Gently clutching at the back of Baird's head, Eleanor arched her back, combing her fingers through Baird's hair.

"That's a' girl," Baird murmured.

Baird began to gently suck on Eleanor's left breast, his tongue flicking over the nipple lightly. Eleanor moaned quietly in response, her hands sliding to Baird's shoulders and gripping them tightly. As Baird continued his tantalizing work, a feeling of pent up energy began to coil inside Eleanor, and her nails dug into Baird's shoulders.

"...Baird," Eleanor murmured.

Baird reached up and put a finger to Eleanor's lips, and then let his tongue lightly drag across Eleanor's chest to her right breast. Kissing the soft, supple skin, Baird grinned proudly when he heard Eleanor whimper with anticipation. Her grip on his shoulders intensified, and finally Baird relented, closing his lips on the pale nipple, sucking at it softly.

After a few minutes of slow but deliberate teasing, he began unbuckling the small belt that Eleanor had been wearing, slowly laying back on the mattress and moving so that he was lying lengthways on the bed. Smiling down at Baird, Eleanor ran her hands down his chest, biting her bottom lip.

"C'mere," Baird beckoned. When Eleanor obliged, Baird kissed her, biting gently on her bottom lip. "...that's my job."

"You do it so well."

"'course I do."

"And you're so modest, too."

"...aaah, shaddap," Baird grumbled, kissing Eleanor again and pulling her belt free from the belt loops on her pants. He tossed it aside, and Eleanor couldn't help but smirk slightly. So much for keeping her quarters neat and tidy...

Eleanor managed to wriggle out of her pants without her legs getting tangled in the pant legs. Baird slid his down her back and then grasped her rear, lifting his hips slightly and pressing against her. A quick shudder raced through Eleanor, and she lay down against Baird, kissing him again and combing her fingers through his hair. His lips still had the slight taste of alcohol on them, even through all this, but Eleanor paid it no mind. By this point she wouldn't have minded a drink herself. She tugged eagerly at his belt, but Baird grasped her wrist, again with surprising gentleness, and lay back, smirking.

"Say please," he chided.

Kissing the side of Baird's neck softly, Eleanor leaned forward and whispered to Baird quietly, her lips brushing against his ear.

"Please."

In response, Baird released Eleanor's wrist and she quickly unbuckled his belt. She sat up as she worked to pull the belt off, and Baird lay back, looking over Eleanor's almost completely nude body. His world was still spinning, but at the moment, he couldn't complain about the view. He set his hand on Eleanor's thigh, surprised at how cool her skin was to the touch, before letting it slowly slip up to the pale pink underwear that Eleanor was wearing. A small smile spread across Eleanor's features when Baird's hand pulled at the underwear.

"Now, now," Eleanor chided, slowly grinding against Baird and gently digging her knees against his hips. "Fair's fair, Baird. We're getting these pants off you, first."

"...meh, I never git to haf any fun," Baird slurred, frowning up at Eleanor.

As the belt slipped free from the belt loops on Baird's pants, Eleanor held it up and raised an eyebrow. It was enough to make the still very inebriated Baird grin. He cleared his throat and shifted slightly as Eleanor unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants. It took a bit of work, but Eleanor was able to pull them off. Following Baird's example, she tossed them wherever, wincing slightly when she heard something topple from its place on a table as the pants fell over it.

Her fingers lightly traced the hem of his boxers, and Eleanor looked at Baird, grinning mischievously. Raising an eyebrow, Baird made an impatient noise and once again tugged at Eleanor's underwear.

"You've got a one-track mind, don't you?"

"...gimme'."

"Well, it did work the last time," Eleanor said quietly, climbing off the bed long enough to slide her underwear off, letting them fall to the floor. She suddenly felt extremely self-conscious, and it took everything she had not to shiver. In all her years of dancing, Eleanor had never been really self-conscious about the way she looked when dancing. She had gotten the catcalls, whoops, and whistles to keep her ego stroked for decades. But now, with her heart in her throat, she was almost terrified as to what Baird would say.

The blonde-haired Gear had watched her intently, and once she was completely free of any clothing, he looked her up and down slowly.

"...hey, lookie...carpet matches the drapes."

Eleanor didn't know whether to laugh or sigh. Of course Baird would come up with a response that she hadn't braced for. Steeling over her nerves, trying to remember and re-imagine the thundering bass from the clubs, Eleanor put on the cockiest smile she could muster.

"Yes, yes they do," she replied. Her voice quivered slightly, but Eleanor couldn't imagine Baird picking up on that in his current drunken state.

But he did hear it. Frowning slightly, Baird beckoned Eleanor over, grinning contentedly when she returned to straddling him. He ran his hands up her arms quickly, then pulled Eleanor to him, kissing her fervently. He didn't resist as she tugged his boxers off, though it took a little bit of work. Baird's coordination was...lacking at the moment, but he hardly cared. He'd been ready to go since he'd first kissed Eleanor...

"'mere," Baird murmured, maneuvering both himself and Eleanor so that he was on top of Eleanor, propping himself up on his elbows for the moment.

Eleanor was tantalizingly warm. Apparently Baird wasn't the only one who had been struggling to keep themselves in check. All the better, as far as Baird was concerned.

"Baird," Eleanor whispered shakily.

"...hmn?"

Stopping herself from saying what she so desperately wanted to, Eleanor roughly kissed Baird, wrapping her legs around his waist cautiously.

Baird needed no more coaxing...

Deepening the kiss, his tongue running across Eleanor's lips, Baird slid into Eleanor slowly. He made an audible, low gasp at the sensation of incredibly alluring heat, and he gripped the bed sheets tightly, forcing himself to keep in check.

Eleanor had gasped and whimpered slightly, her nails digging into Baird's back sharply as she raised her hips, and she buried her face against the side of Baird's neck. As her senses started to clear, Eleanor began kissing the side of Baird's neck slowly, whispering his name softly.

Pressing against her, Baird gave Eleanor a few moments, able to practically feel her racing heartbeat thudding against her bare chest. His thoughts were still blurred, slipping in the alcohol-induced haze, and he struggled to understand Eleanor's apparent frenetic state. He roughly nuzzled his face against Eleanor's, trying to turn her gaze to his. Baird studied Eleanor's face for a few minutes, frowning when he saw her eyes were still closed.

"...'ey," he murmured, again roughly brushing his face against Eleanor's. "...open yer' eyes."

Wincing slightly as the rough, sandpaper feel of Baird's five o'clock shadow rubbed against her cheek, Eleanor cautiously fluttered her eyes open. Her breath caught in her throat when he eyes locked with Baird's. In the dim light, they were a dark, almost sapphire blue, and, for probably the first time since she'd encountered the man, didn't have a sharp, hard glint in them.

"...'at's better," Baird said with a smirk. After brushing a lock of Eleanor's rust-colored hair from her face, Baird pressed his lips against Eleanor's as he pushed deeper into her.

Eleanor gasped sharply, arching her back slightly and shuddering. She gripped at Baird's back, tightening her legs around his waist. Pulling out slightly, Baird hesitated for only a moment before sliding back into Eleanor, setting a slow but deliberate pace initially. It elicited another sharp gasp from Eleanor, and she bit down on her bottom lip.

"Don't listen, do ya'?" Baird asked quietly, kissing Eleanor and biting gently on her bottom lip. "...told ya' 'at's my job."

"I'll do better," Eleanor replied breathlessly.

"'at's a girl..."

Sliding a hand underneath Eleanor's lower back, Baird held Eleanor steady as he gradually intensified the pace. Feeling her shudder quickly, Baird chuckled and lightly kissed the side of Eleanor's neck, leaning forward slightly so he could whisper in her ear.

"...doin' good so far there, doc?" he asked, kissing her ear.

By this point, Eleanor's thoughts were racing, jumbled, and practically tripping over each other. There was her initial fear of what would happen in the morning, then there was the nagging guilt that she felt for taking advantage of the situation like this, but more so, more overpowering than both of those combined, was the wild sense of passion ignited from the smoldering desire she'd had for Baird all this time.

It was that last one she gave in to.

"Harder," she murmured firmly.

"Yeah?"

Eleanor nodded quickly, kissing Baird roughly as he obliged her request. Moaning softly, Eleanor felt the pent up energy inside her intensify, working its way up to her chest gradually.

"Baird...!" she whimpered, arching her back slightly.

Though he didn't answer, Baird increased the pace just enough to make Eleanor cry out and buck her hips slightly. Grinning, Baird kissed Eleanor fervently as she kept pace with him and dug her nails into his back. Her heat and the taste of her lips was as intoxicating as any alcohol, and Baird once again found himself clutching the bed sheets tightly. Another sharp shudder from Eleanor caused Baird to quicken his pace, kissing Eleanor insistently.

"Baird," Eleanor said hurriedly in between kisses. Her tone said everything, and Baird grinned knowingly. "I...I-"

Eleanor cut herself off by kissing Baird deeply. She couldn't say it. She desperately wanted to. Eleanor would have given anything at this point to be able to say it, but she couldn't. So she settled for a kiss as the pent up energy that had been coiling inside her like an impossibly taut spring released suddenly.

Baird held Eleanor tightly as she bucked fiercely against him, her back arching sharply and a short cry escaping her lips. The sensation of her ecstasy was overpowering, and Baird growled sharply, feeling all restraint dissipate as a sudden rush of release and exhilaration hit him. Burying his face roughly against the side of Eleanor's neck to muffle his hoarse gasp, Baird managed a quick kiss to the side of Eleanor's neck as his senses raced wildly.

As a feeling of both exhaustion and contentedness washed over Eleanor, she gently stroked the back of Baird's head and neck. Slowly he began to relax, and after coughing shortly, Baird more or less collapsed to Eleanor's side, trying to catch his breath. Eleanor allowed herself a small smile and looked over at Baird, who looked as tired as she felt. She reached over and combed Baird's hair back, and Baird opened his eyes partially.

"...hrm?" he muttered.

"Did you want blankets?" Eleanor asked slowly. She'd definitely have to wake up before Baird did, but by this point, Eleanor had accepted that Baird was staying the night.

Baird just nodded, grabbing the nearest pillow and practically burying his face in it. Stifling a quiet giggle, Eleanor managed to pull the blankets free from underneath them and tossed them over Baird. She sat on the edge of the mattress, trying to figure out if she should sleep elsewhere.

"Hey..."

Looking over her shoulder, Eleanor saw that Baird had gotten the other pillow she normally had tucked against the wall and haphazardly set it beside the one he had claimed. Baird hit the pillow once with his hand before tugging the blankets around him.

"Oh I-" Eleanor started.

Frowning slightly, Baird snapped his fingers and pointed at the pillow sternly. Sighing, Eleanor lay back down, fumbling at the wristband she wore and setting an alarm for early in the morning. Hopefully she'd wake up before the alarm woke Baird. As she lay down, Baird cast the blankets over her as well and sighed heavily. It sounded as though he was almost already half-asleep. Setting her head on the pillow, Eleanor curled up slightly. Suddenly a thought hit her. What if she started having nightmares? Baird didn't suffer from them, and he certainly would be less than thrilled to deal with Eleanor's shrieking. Especially if he was already fighting a hangover.

Almost as if on cue, Baird draped his arm over Eleanor's shoulders, pulling her to him as he slowly dozed off. Blinking quickly in mute surprise, Eleanor allowed herself to nuzzle against Baird's arm gently before closing her eyes. Maybe tonight she'd actually find respite from the horrors that haunted her sleep.

()

As his internal clock began to demand that he wake up, Baird groaned and winced, feeling sharp stabs of pain burrow themselves into his skull. He grasped at his forehead and coughed, feeling a disgusting aftertaste of alcohol coating his mouth and throat. Slowly propping himself up on one elbow, Baird rubbed his eyes slowly, trying rid them of the pulsing pain that was currently wracking his entire head. It was at about that point that Baird realized he had no clothes on.

Blinking, Baird quickly tried to recall the events of last night, but found that there was nothing but a giant gap in his memory.

"...goddammit," he grumbled, sitting up slowly.

"You're awake."

Snapping his gaze over to the right, Baird saw Eleanor sitting at a small table with a coffee cup in her hands, clad in a dark blue tank top and black sweat pants, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Glaring at her accusingly, Baird pulled the blankets up securely to his waist.

"What the hell did you do to me? Where the hell are my clothes? And what the _fuck_ are you doing in my goddamn-" It was then that Baird realized he was not in his quarters and he looked around quickly. "-not...quarters."

"I didn't do anything to you. Well, nothing bad."

Looking back at Eleanor angrily, Baird felt his temper flare. Waking up naked in somebody else's room with absolutely no memory of the night before was not an ideal way to start the day by any stretch of the means. _Especially_ when the somebody in question had access to drugs that could make you as brain-dead as an inbred Boomer.

"The hell does that mean?" Baird demanded. "'Nothing bad'?"

Raising an eyebrow, Eleanor took another sip of the coffee, never taking her eyes off Baird. Rubbing the back of his head, Baird gritted his teeth, trying to will away the hangover. A sudden flash of memory hit him, and realization dawned on him rather strongly. He froze, looking somewhere between horrified and stunned. Eleanor waited quietly, wary of Baird's response.

"Wait a minute," he muttered, looking at Eleanor. "Did we...?"

Eleanor nodded.

"You and me?"

Eleanor nodded again.

"Last night?"

After a confused look, Eleanor nodded.

"Oh fuck me," Baird groaned, falling back against the mattress.

"Again?" Eleanor asked.

Baird favored Eleanor with a venomous scowl before coughing and clapping a hand over his eyes.

"Goddammit, I must've been drunker than I've ever been."

"You were pretty wasted."

"Nobody asked your opinion, lady," Baird grumbled. "How the hell did I end up with you, anyways?"

"I caught you arguing rather violently with a vending machine."

Removing the hand from his eyes, Baird looked over at Eleanor, obviously perplexed.

"A vending machine?"

"Mmhm. It had given you the soda you asked for and everything, but you were none too happy with it."

"Yeah, well, it probably deserved whatever it got," Baird retorted. He sat back up slowly and looked around the room. "Where the hell are my clothes?"

"On the floor at the foot of the bed."

Peeking over the edge of the bed, Baird saw his clothes neatly folded, along with his boots. He looked up at Eleanor, who was taking another drink of coffee. She was oddly quiet, for somebody that always seemed to be yammering about something, and Baird cleared his throat to get her attention.

"Unless you're looking to get another show of what you had last night," Baird warned. "I'd look away at this point."

Eleanor quickly turned in her seat and Baird practically leapt out of bed, tugging on his boxers first and then his pants. As he worked on snaking the belt through the loops on his pants, he looked over at Eleanor and frowned slightly. She still had her back to him, but her top had pulled up slightly, and he could see a slight hint of a bruise on her lower right side.

Leaving his shirt on the floor for the moment, Baird walked over to Eleanor, who, upon hearing his footsteps, turned around quickly. She looked alarmed enough that Baird paused. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

"What? You think I'm going to hurt you or something?" Even as he asked the last question, though, uneasiness gnawed at the back of his mind. He was a lot of things, most unsavory, and he'd be the first to admit it. But he didn't beat up women. "Come here."

Slowly setting the coffee cup on the table, Eleanor cautiously approached Baird, who carefully lifted up Eleanor's tank top to just below her ribs. He sighed heavily at the sight of sight of three dark bluish bruises on Eleanor's skin.

"...fuck," he muttered.

"It's fine," Eleanor replied quickly.

Baird looked at her, letting her tank top fall back down over her stomach, and shook his head quickly, taking a step back.

"Like hell it's fine," he snapped back. "I may be a lot of things, lady, but I don't hurt girls. I mean, unless they hurt me first. I'm nobody's punching bag."

"You were drunk, Baird," Eleanor said quietly. "And you didn't hurt me on purpose."

Eyeing Eleanor, Baird shrugged, shook his head, and picked his shirt up off the floor, pulling it on. He scratched the back of his head before sitting down on the mattress. As he pulled on his socks, he stopped and looked up at Eleanor.

"Were we at least smart about the whole thing?" he asked.

"I'm currently on medication so I can't have kids," Eleanor answered.

Baird seemed a little surprised by the answer, but nodded and continued putting his boots on. After he was fully dressed, he stood up, shrugging slightly and looked at Eleanor.

"I'm going to suggest that neither of say anything about this," he stated flatly.

"I agree," Eleanor replied with a nod.

"So glad you do, princess," Baird answered steely.

Eleanor raised an eyebrow slightly and crossed her arms, but said nothing. Baird glanced at the door leading out of her quarters and nodded slightly, feeling uncomfortable for the first time since he'd woken up. He headed for the door, yanking it open and quickly exiting. But he still heard what Eleanor said...

"Have a good day, Baird."

Oh yeah. The day was off to such a wonderful start already...


	2. Chapter 2

A familiar face greeted Baird at the doorway to the cafeteria.

"Well, well, well! Good mornin', there, sunshine!"

Baird looked at Cole with probably one of the grumpiest faces he'd ever mustered in his life. Even Cole stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"Damn, you're this pissed off and haven't even had breakfast? Getting an early start on the day or what?"

"Don't want to talk about it," Baird answered shortly.

"What'd you do?" Cole asked, crossing his arms.

Glancing at the other soldiers waiting in line for breakfast, Baird looked back at Cole and grimaced slightly.

"Probably one of the most dumb ass things I've done drunk."

The statement was enough to make Cole stare at Baird in silence for at least three minutes before the Gear cleared his throat.

"'The most'?" Cole repeated. "Goddamn, Baird. What the hell did you do?"

"Don't want to talk about it," Baird grumbled, frowning once again.

"Do we need to hide a body?"

Pausing, Baird pondered the idea, then shook his head. Eleanor was annoying, but not that annoying.

"Nail somebody you'd normally never talk to?"

Baird froze and looked at Cole flatly. It took a few seconds for realization to dawn on Cole, but when it did, he barely avoided yelling the word 'what' at Baird.

"You?"

Baird nodded.

"Did that...?"

Baird nodded.

"You?"

Baird nodded.

"Oh man, you're in trouble...," Cole muttered, turning to get a tray.

The two got their breakfast in silence, with Cole being his usual, enthusiastic self, and Baird giving the entire cafeteria staff ice-laden looks the entire time.

They sat in a corner of the mess hall. Baird detested sitting with most other people to begin with, so for him this was normal behavior. Sitting down at the end of the table, Baird poked at the food on his tray, making a face. Cole, on the other hand, immediately began eating at the scrambled eggs before he looked at Baird and sighed.

"Well, man, you were pretty drunk. Wondered where you'd wandered off to when you didn't come back to finish off your last drink."

"Wish I had finished that drink," Baird grumbled, angrily stabbing at a piece of toast. "...goddammit."

"Was she at least hot?" Cole asked, munching on a biscuit. "I mean...it was a woman, right?"

"Of course it was!" Baird fumed, driving the fork straight through the toast, sending crumbs all over the table. "...stupid, fucking bitch. Probably drugged me or something."

Cole raised an eyebrow and watched as Baird proceeded to mutilate the piece of toast with extreme prejudice.

"You went and nailed some woman that can drug you?" Cole asked lowly.

"I don't know. I mean, I would assume she could," Baird retorted.

"Well who was it? Did you even get a name?"

"Goddammit, Cole, how fucking wasted do you think I was?" Baird stopped, remembering Eleanor mentioning he had been threatening the well-being of a vending machine. "Nevermind. Yeah, I got a name."

"And...?" Cole asked, waving his hand slightly to coax Baird into continuing.

Baird started to answer, but was cut off when a sharp whistle echoed through the mess hall. Both he and Cole looked over to see Eleanor getting a small box of food. Glowering at the woman, Baird finally took a bite of food. To her credit, Eleanor was at least not trying to seek him out. In fact, she seemed to be purposefully keeping her back to the mess hall.

When a particularly crude catcall was heard, though, Eleanor looked over her shoulder quickly. Her gaze flicked across the mess hall before she rolled her eyes and shook her head. A low, almost inaudible reprimand from a commanding officer, made most of the soldiers return to their food, but Baird kept an eye on Eleanor. She'd tried to brush off the comment nonchalantly, but Baird had seen the quick flash of anger in her expression.

Turning, Eleanor went to leave the cafeteria, gripping the small box of food tightly. She was too busy keeping her gaze to the ground that she almost plowed straight into a Gear who was a little late to breakfast. Jumping slightly, Eleanor stared up at the man, and Baird felt his jaw involuntarily set. The Gear towered over Eleanor, and she seemed incredibly frail compared to the man. Feeling the muscles in his back tense, Baird watched the Gear closely, waiting for him to do something stupid...

Fortunately, the Gear gave Eleanor a short nod and stepped aside, letting her dart past. Baird watched the soldier for a few moments before realizing that Cole was giving him a disbelieving stare. Looking over at his compatriot, Baird narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

"Her?"

After much thought and deliberation, Baird nodded. Cole proceeded to choke on the mouthful of toast he had been eating, and it took him a few minutes to get his composure back. Baird waited with an exasperated glare on his face as Cole finally caught his breath.

"You nailed the doc?" Cole whispered, leaning forward slightly.

"Not so loud...!" Baird hissed. He glanced around, but it didn't seem like anybody had heard. "...I was drunk, dammit. What do you expect?"

"Man I was expecting you nailed some really ugly chick. The doc's damn hot...!"

"No, she's-" Baird stopped, thought about some of the women he encountered, then nodded shortly in agreement. "Okay, fine, so she is. But still...goddamn woman is about as annoying as a Wretch screaming in your face."

"I don't know," Cole said with a shrug, returning back to his breakfast. "She seems nice enough. Pretty smile, too."

"Then why don't you go nail her?" Baird snapped back.

"Because I ain't the one she's been staring at," Cole replied, looking at Baird pointedly.

"The fuck are you talking about?" Baird grumbled.

"You may be blind as a Kryll, but I'm not," Cole answered. "Doc Boaz has been fawning over you ever since she first laid eyes on you. Why? I don't have a damn clue." Cole grinned at Baird. "You're mean as sin and just about as ugly."

"Hey!" Baird cried through a mouthful of food. He pointed accusingly at Cole with his fork. "I've got some redeeming qualities!"

"Like what? You're spot-on manners?"

"Ah, fuck you, then," Baird grumbled, taking another bite of breakfast.

"No, no, must be your crystal clean language," Cole laughed. "But yeah, the doc has been watching you ever since she first saw you."

"Yeah, well...good for her," Baird muttered angrily. In truth, he wasn't quite sure what to say. There was an odd knot at the pit of his stomach. He immediately recognized the knot for what it was, and he immediately recognized he had to shut it off.

There was no way, no how, he could possibly..._care_...for Doctor Boaz. The very thought made him physically ill.

She was annoying, way too talkative, had pestered him numerous times on if he was doing "okay," had absolutely little to no combat knowledge that Baird knew of, and was more of a liability than anything else.

But for one of the few, rare times in his life, the damnable, hindering feeling wouldn't shut off. Like a jammed switch, no matter how hard Baird tried to shut it off, it refused to budge and only seemed to wedge in deeper. It made Baird's blood go cold and he fought even harder to dismiss the knot and shut it off. ...and yet the knot and the ever suffocating feeling remained.

Sighing heavily, Baird shoved his tray of food off to the side. His appetite had long since evaporated and at this point, he was doing well enough to keep what little food he had eaten down.

()

The day dragged on mercilessly, the stifling heat snaking its way through the base. Sure, they had air conditioning and fans, but it was like using an eyedropper to fight a wildfire. Using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his eyes, Baird gripped the wrench tightly and gave it a fierce yank. Finally, the bolt he had been working on for the last thirty minutes to get free relented and the wrench swung around quickly...and promptly pinched Baird's hand viciously between the wrench handle and the engine.

"Ow! Son of a-" Baird yelped, yanking his hand back and shaking it quickly. He glanced at his index and middle fingers, frowning at the side of bright red blood welling up from a set of three cuts. Sucking on the injuries briefly, Baird glared at the engine. Yanking the wrench free from its grip on the bolt, he waved the wrench at the engine in a threatening manner. "You keep playing rough with me, I'll have to get mean."

"Threatening inanimate objects again?"

Looking up, Baird saw Cole walking into the garage. The former Thrashball player shook his head quickly in disbelief, pulling at the collar of his dark grey shirt.

"I don't know how you stand it in here, man," he said, looking around. "Hotter in here than it is outside."

"Yeah, well...heat doesn't bother me that much. Now engines that decide to play nasty and rough, those bother me."

"Well maybe if you stopped insulting it, you might get somewhere."

"Ha, ha," Baird replied sarcastically, wincing and sucking on his fingers again. The cuts weren't too terribly deep, but they burned like wildfire. "What're you doing here, Cole?"

"Came to see if you were doing any better than you were this morning. You started off mad as hell and then looked like somebody had told you they were taking away your birthday."

"I'm fine," Baird answered dismissively, going back to work on unscrewing the bolt from the engine. He still had four more to go, and at this rate, it was going to take him all day.

"You sure? First time I've seen you pass up food in a long time."

"Hey, I'm watching my figure," Baird snapped back, frowning at the engine as he began unscrewing the bolt by hand. "Besides, it tasted like the underside of some grub's boot."

"You passed up strawberry jam," Cole said flatly, crossing his arms. "I thought you may be dying or something."

"Yeah, yeah...just not hungry," Baird grumbled, setting to work on undoing the next bolt. "Hangover got to me."

"You need to watch that drinking, then," Cole said, leaning against a work table. "It makes you do damn crazy things."

"Damn stupid things, is more like it," Baird muttered, grunting slightly as he forced the bolt to give. "Goddammit, they use super glue or something on these things?"

"You still on about the whole doc thing?" Cole asked incredulously. "Let it go, man. You're both consenting adults and you probably needed to get laid."

"Yippee-fucking-skippee. I'd rather take my chances with grubs."

"Hey now, you could've done much worse."

"That's like saying I could've stuck a screwdriver in a light socket or tried to floss with the chainsaw part of a Lancer. Both hurt like hell and are embarrassing as shit."

"Okay, so what's the worst that's going to happen?"

"That damn bimbo's going to start talking to me and want to talk about feelings." Baird's voice hit a high-pitched, nasal tone as he grimaced at the last part of the sentence. Unscrewing the second bolt, he looked at the third bolt and sighed, rubbing his face in exasperation. The bolt was jutting out at an odd angle, and it looked like somebody had just jammed it in there to hold the engine together rather than take the time to properly screw it in.

"Would it be that bad?

Baird stopped and glared coldly at Cole, who quickly held up his hands.

"Okay, okay," Cole said, quickly backing off. "Just saying that maybe having somebody to talk with more than a vending machine and an engine might be good for you."

"That's...the last...thing...I need," Baird grumbled, fighting to pry the bolt out.

"Well, heads up," Cole warned, dropping his voice low. "Incoming."

"Ah, son of a bitch...," Baird hissed.

Looking up, he saw Eleanor walking past one of the large bay doors of the garage. She glanced down at her digipad, the woman never seemed to be without the damn thing, and then looked around. Blinking a couple of times, Eleanor frowned and looked back down at the digipad, poking at it lightly.

"You know, the gentlemanly thing to do would be to ask if she's lost," Cole said quietly, leaning towards Baird.

"Well, if I see a gentleman who's looking to have his ear yakked off, I'll let him know," Baird replied angrily, going back to work on the bolt.

"Baird, come on, man, you-"

Cole stopped suddenly enough that Baird looked up. A Gear, a Private by the looks of it, in full armor was quickly walking up behind Eleanor, who was still fiddling with her digipad.

"Doctor Boaz?"

Eleanor quickly looked up and whirled around. She stared at the Gear and tilted her head to one side.

"Uh...yes?"

"It's me!" the Gear replied quickly. "Do you remember me?"

"Ummm..."

"Oh! Sorry...it's the helmet, huh?" the Gear asked. He quickly pulled his helmet off. The Gear had probably once had fairly pale skin, but it had long since been tanned, and a mess of brown hair was spiked in various spots. He grinned at Eleanor and held out his hands slightly.

"Harris?" Eleanor asked quietly.

"Yeah!" he replied, grinning wider.

"Harris! How are you?" Eleanor exclaimed, holding out her hand.

Harris snorted and rolled his eyes, grinning. He grabbed Eleanor's hand and pulled her forward suddenly, lifting her up off the ground in a tight hug. Making a quiet 'oof' sound, Eleanor blinked and managed a weak, surprised grin.

Baird's grip on the wrench tightened considerably...

Setting Eleanor down, Harris took a step back and held out his arms.

"Okay, so what do you think? Armor's sexy, huh? I mean, aside from the claw marks and blood stains..."

"Oh yes, very sexy," Eleanor replied, laughing and rolling her eyes.

"So how have you been?" Harris asked, shaking Eleanor slightly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Clenching his jaw tightly, Baird began to tap the wrench quickly against the engine.

"Well, you know me, I like to get in the way," Eleanor answered, smiling weakly. "So I figured here I could cause the most trouble."

"You going to do any more party visits for us, doc?" Harris asked with a teasing smile, winking.

The metallic tapping noise of the wrench on the engine only intensified and quickened.

"Oh, I-!" Eleanor quickly ducked her head, blushing. "No, no...I don't think so. I think those days are far behind me."

"Awww...come on, doc. I'll even make sure you get home safe and everything."

Now the wrench was practically hammering on the engine at a rapid-fire pace.

"Now, now, Harris, it's not nice to try and pressure a lady."

"All right, all right," Harris chuckled, holding up his hands. "You know I was only teasing you anyways. You lost or something?"

"Erm...sort of," Eleanor sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "I don't see how you men handle this kind of heat in that armor."

"You get used to it after a while. Plus after seeing what it protects you from, the armor doesn't seem so bad." Harris looked around quickly. "Where're you going?"

"The armory," Eleanor answered, frowning slightly. "I've only been there a couple times, and I've gotten lost every time I tried to get there."

"You want me to walk you there?" Harris offered. "But...what are you doing at the armory, doc?"

"Yes, please. I'd really appreciate it." Eleanor sighed and looked around. Her expression had rapidly gone from smiling to worried. "I get to go play mediator. A small group of civilians, probably Stranded, has been located in the nearby abandoned mine. They just moved there, but they're close enough to the base that we're either going to retrieve them or get them to move along..."

"You sure that's safe...?" Harris asked, lightly putting a hand on Eleanor's shoulder as he began guiding her towards the armory.

"I don't get a choice," Eleanor replied with a weak grin. "I take orders...I just don't get the armor."

The conversation between Harris and Eleanor faded as the two walked away, but the noise as the wrench jackhammered against the engine remained, echoing through the garage. Cole looked over at Baird slowly, raising an eyebrow. The blonde-haired Gear was still glaring angrily at the spot where Harris and Eleanor had been standing, even though the spot had long since been vacated.

"He's gone, Baird," Cole said. "Good thing you can't kill with looks, otherwise poor Private Harris would be in trouble."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Baird snapped, stopping the wrench in mid-swing.

"Wait a minute...you aren't..._jealous_, are you?" Cole cried, looking at Baird in disbelief.

"Fuck no!" Baird immediate turned back to the engine, quickly resuming the fight with the jammed bolt. "Goddamn Private should know better than to sneak up on somebody, though. He might find himself getting the business end of a Lancer at that rate."

"Oh yeah," Cole agreed sarcastically. He held up his hands, feigning terror. "Watch out! Doc Boaz is on the rampage again! Shit! There goes the mess hall! Oh no, she just took out the firing range! It's pandemonium! All Gears report in!"

"All right, all right, _all right_!" Baird yelled in irritation. Scowling at Cole, he snorted slightly and focused all his attention on the bolt, turning his back to Cole. "I got to get to work on this thing. I'll see you around, Cole."

Smiling faintly and shaking his head, Cole took a step back, making his way to the door that lead out of the garage.

"You got it, man. But watch out, you keep this up and you're going to be trading those baby blue eyes of yours in for a set of green ones."

Turning around quickly, Baird had a sharp reply at the ready, but Cole had already walked out of the garage. Fuming, Baird wedged the wrench against the jammed bolt tightly and began trying to forcibly pry the stubborn piece of metal free. There was a sudden snap of metal and the top half of the bolt flew into the air and fell to the floor with a metallic ting.

Sighing and muttering a vile curse, Baird stared at the broken bolt, realizing he had just doubled his work time.

()

Afternoon dragged on and as the hour of dusk began to loom closer, the base seemed to be abnormally active, with Gears muttering amongst themselves. As Baird stepped out of the garage, grateful to be greeted by a blast of lukewarm air, he stopped at the small water fountain in the hallway just across from the garage doorway. Splashing the water on his face before taking a long drink, the blonde-haired Gear paused when he heard two passing soldiers talking amongst themselves.

"Whole thing went to Hell in a handbasket," the first one muttered.

"Goddamn, but isn't it mostly women and children?"

"Yeah, but sounds like they had a couple of trigger-happy fucks that went nuts when they saw a couple Gears show up. Started shooting the whole place up."

"That mine is a deathtrap, anyways. Gives the grubs an open invitation to charge right in. We should've just left those fuckers to rot..."

"Hey," Baird called out. He waited for the two soldiers to stop before continuing. "What the hell are you two talking about?"

"The Stranded at the mine, sir," the first soldier replied. "You didn't hear? They sent in some mediator and it sounded like she was doing okay until some shoot 'em up crazy saw that there were armed Gears with her. They took the mediator hostage and have basically barricaded themselves in the mine housing."

"Yeah, well, I've seen that place," the second soldier added. "It'll all be over when the Kryll come out. Those Stranded have no idea the hell they're in for."

"But what about the mediator? Wasn't it that shrink lady?"

"Yeah, it's too bad about her. And those women and kids, too. Sounded like they wanted out of there, but a couple of fucknuts went and screwed it up for everybody else."

"Whoa, whoa," Baird interrupted. "You mean they made the call to just leave them out there?"

"Yeah," the first soldier answered somberly. "They pulled the Gears back when two of them were injured, left the mediator, Stranded, and another Gear that had tried to rescue that shrink lady."

"Who the hell gave that order?" Baird demanded angrily.

"Uhm...Colonel Darrows," came the reply. The soldiers could see Baird's temper flaring, and neither wanted to be in the vicinity at this point.

"Goddamn bastard," Baird snarled, furiously storming past the soldiers, who quickly gave Baird space.

As he neared the debriefing room and shoved the door open, Baird gritted his teeth tightly. He knew it was less than a brilliant idea to go flying off the handle at Colonel Darrows, but the idea that they had left people out there to die infuriated him.

It seemed that Baird was not alone in that idea...

Standing across the table from the tall, narrow eyed Colonel Darrows was Sergeant Marcus Fenix, who looked to be already in the middle of a heated argument with Darrows. The two looked up as Baird walked down the metal stairs to the main floor of the debriefing room.

"Corporal Baird," Colonel Darrows said coldly. His blonde hair was slicked back, and his pale green eyes looked over Baird venomously. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yeah, I heard a rumor that we decided to go off and be utterly heartless jag-offs and leave some of our people out there to get eaten alive by Kryll. And since I thought that 'nah, that couldn't be true,' I just thought I'd come down and pay you a quick visit to make sure that we, in fact, aren't utterly heartless jag-offs that would leave our own people to be Kryll chow," Baird said sardonically, holding out his arms slightly.

"The rumor, Corporal Baird," Darrows said dismissively, looking back at a map that had been written over numerous times, "is true. However, I think we prefer the term 'intelligently and sorrowfully counting our losses.'"

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Baird protested, taking a step towards Colonel Darrows.

"Corporal Baird!" Darrows snapped back, turning his full attention to the blonde-haired Gear. "While I do regret the loss of life of a Gear and will personally sign the letter to his family, we cannot risk a team of Gears for one soldier. You would know that if you actually followed orders..."

"Hey I follow my goddamn orders to the letter you son of a-"

"What if I lead a team myself?" Marcus interjected, stopping Baird from digging his grave deeper.

"Again, the answer is 'no,' Sergeant," Darrows replied lazily. "Besides, I highly doubt you would be able to find four other Gears willing to follow you into a deathtrap."

"Dom will go. He's not going to leave people to die," Marcus stated confidently.

"Count me in, too. I love deathtraps," Baird snapped back. "I mean, the day isn't complete if I don't go prancing into at least one deathtrap."

"Fine," Darrows hissed acidly, scowling at Baird. "Two other Gears."

"So you're saying if I got two other Gears, the mission would be approved?" Marcus asked pointedly.

"No. I'm simply trying to talk some sense into you, Sergeant."

"We've got two people out there, both possibly injured, and you're signing their goddamn death warrants," Marcus argued, his voice starting to tense.

"We have _one_ person out there, Sergeant," Colonel Darrows corrected tersely. "Doctor Boaz is a luxury item and an affordable loss at this-"

"What the fuck are you-? A 'luxury item'?" Baird demanded furiously, slamming his fists down on the table. "Nobody is an 'affordable loss' of a goddamn 'luxury item' and especially not a Gear or Boaz!"

"Corporal Baird!" Darrows shouted, stepping forward quickly so he was less than an inch from Baird's face. "You are out of line and I can have you thrown into the brig for such insolence!"

"Hey! You'd be keeping up with the whole 'leave people behind' motif that we've got going on here, you god-"

"Baird," Marcus interrupted sternly.

"This is bullshit!" Baird protested. He then scowled fiercely at Marcus. "And you know it!"

"Colonel," Marcus said, gritting his teeth to keep his own temper from rising. "Three hours. That's all we need, sir. I'll get a team together and we can get the Gear and Boaz out of there. I'll lead them myself, sir."

Slowly turning away from Baird to focus his narrow-eyed gaze on Marcus, Darrows glared at them both before breathing out very slowly. It almost sounded like a snake hissing...

"You have two hours, Sergeant," Darrows finally said, his voice dripping with venom. "Two hours to get a team together, get out there, and either bring back our Gear or bring back a body before I close the gates to the base and you're on your own. If you want to risk your life and the lives of your teammates for a bunch of Stranded, then that will be your call and on your conscience."

"Thank you, sir," Marcus said, almost having to spit the words out. "Baird, let's go."

Snorting slightly, Baird stepped back from Darrows slowly before turning and following Marcus out of the debriefing room.

"About time you started following orders," Darrows sneered.

Pivoting quickly, Baird started to storm back towards Darrows, but Marcus grabbed his arm, stopping him. Baird scowled at Marcus, but relented as Marcus shook his head. He followed Marcus down the hallway, still seething.

"I can't believe that fucking dipshit!" Baird snarled, running his hands through his hair. "'Affordable loss' my ass! That snob-nosed shit is an 'affordable loss' as far as I'm concerned."

"You almost got yourself thrown in the brig, Baird," Marcus reprimanded. "You need to watch what you say."

"What? You agree with dickweed Darrows?" Baird asked incredulously.

"No, I don't. But if you had gotten yourself thrown in the brig, then I'd have to find another Gear for the team," Marcus answered, his tone tense.

"Aw, so nice to know you care," Baird crooned.

"Can it, Baird. Who do you know that we could get for the rescue team?"

"Cole'll do it," Baird answered quickly. He knew there was no way that Cole would stand for leaving people to die.

"That leaves us one short. We-"

"Sir? Sergeant Fenix?"

The nervous voice made both Marcus and Baird turn around. Private Harris was standing in the hallway, looking between the two veteran Gears quickly. Baird sneered derisively at Harris, but Marcus nodded slightly.

"Go ahead, Private."

"I...I, um, overheard the conversation in there. If you still need a fifth person, sir, I volunteer."

"You got to be kidding me," Baird snorted. "Last thing we need is some rookie Gear stumbling around and causing us more problems."

"How many times have you actually fought grubs, Private?" Marcus asked, ignoring Baird's comment.

"Erm...five times, sir."

"Were they actual Drones, rookie?" Baird inquired icily. "Or were they just a bunch of little ankle-biting Wretches?"

"Three times they were Drones, sir," Harris answered smartly. "Even fought a Kantus once, too."

"Oooh, watch out folks, we've got a badass over here," Baird sneered.

"Shut it, Baird," Marcus interrupted. He then turned his attention back to Harris and nodded. "That'll do, Private. You're in."

A grin spread on his face and Harris darted forward, following Marcus and Baird closely.

"Thank you, sir!" Harris answered quickly. "I couldn't believe that Colonel Darrows was actually going to leave that Gear and poor Doctor Boaz out there! I mean...is that...legal?"

Baird's derisive laughter echoed down the hallway, and Harris looked up at Marcus quickly, obviously confused. Marcus caught Harris's gaze and sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"If you think that laws mean anything out here, rookie, you're sadly mistaken," Baird chortled. "Those higher-ups will do whatever they think will keep their asses safe and smiles shiny. To hell with the rest of us."

Harris looked mildly panicked and looked up at Marcus, who once again caught the young man's gaze and shook his head. Swallowing hard, Harris looked back to Baird, who was now eyeing Harris narrowly.

"How do you know the doc, Private?" Baird inquired coldly.

"She taught at the Academy, sir," Harris answered, his tone as close to cheery as he dared. "She was actually just the school psychologist at first, but then we had a bit of a problem with one of the professors, so Doctor Boaz filled in for about a year and a half. She was fun. Made the classroom more interactive and was always-"

"I just asked how you knew her, rookie," Baird interrupted. "Not your whole goddamn life story."

"Oh...right, sorry, sir," Harris murmured, clearing his throat. "Well, that's how I know her, sir. From Academy."

"And what the fuck did you mean by asking her to do 'party visits,' Private?" Baird demanded.

Raising an eyebrow slightly, Marcus glanced over at Baird, but said nothing. Harris, however, seemed very flustered by the question and rubbed the back of his neck quickly.

"Oh, um...well, Doctor Boaz is...um...she's um...she's...well, she was...fun...at parties...sir," Harris stammered. "She, uh...she...was...just fun. Sir."

Baird stared at Harris, obviously not convinced, but as Marcus entered the barracks, Baird fell silent.

"Dom!" Marcus called out.

"Is not here right now," came the chuckled reply. Dom was sitting on one of the benches in the barracks, working on the sights of his Lancer. "Please leave a message after the beep. Beep."

"Yeah, this message is for Dom Santiago and this is Baird calling to let him know that we need to go save one of our guys, some yakky doctor, and a bunch of suicidal civilians from becoming the main course on the Kryll menu," Baird retorted. "So if Dom's mommy says it's okay to come out and play, maybe Dom can get his lazy ass in gear."

Looking up, Dom gave Baird an exasperated glare before looking over to Marcus.

"You son of a bitch," Dom said with a grin. "You actually got Darrows to agree, huh?"

"Sort of. We've got two hours to get this done, not three," Marcus explained.

"Well, hey, never did enjoy doing things the easy way," Dom replied, standing up. He rubbed his chin quickly and then nodded at Harris slightly. "Who's the rookie?"

"Private Harris, sir!" Harris answered smartly.

"Private Harris, huh?" Dom repeated, looking at Marcus dubiously with a faint grin.

"Kid's got a couple fights under his belt," Marcus answered, shrugging slightly. "Plus he volunteered."

"Well, that takes some guts, I'll admit," Dom commented. "Maybe we won't have to save your ass from the Kryll, too."

"Oh I know how they-uh," Harris stopped when Dom grinned at him and winked, realizing that Dom had been joking. "Oh, yes sir, I don't think you'll need to be saving me from the Kryll."

"That's better, rookie."

"Yay, now that we're all best friends, can we please get this show on the road while we're still young?" Baird grumbled.

"Go get Cole," Marcus ordered. "Meet up in the armory in ten minutes and we'll gear up and head out."

Within ten minutes, the five had regrouped in the armory and were donning gear and picking out weapons with rehearsed efficiency. Only Harris seemed to stumble a bit, almost dropping the Lancer he'd chosen, but, after quickly looking around to see if anybody had noticed, he gripped the gun tightly, trying to stop his heart from hammering out of his chest.

"All right, you knuckleheads," Baird called out as they headed to the garage. "We're taking one of the Dills, and I've personally worked on this baby to add on a couple of reinforced spotlights for night missions such as these. So if she comes back with so much as a scratch on her, I'm going to personally beat the head in of whoever's driving. So guess what? Rookie, you're driving."

Harris promptly blanched two shades whiter.

"Relax, rookie," Cole laughed. "I'll drive."

"Your skull, Cole," Baird said, holding up his hands slightly.

()

The ride was rough and bumpy, and after watching Harris adjust his helmet for the fourth time, Dom shook his head slightly and moved across so that he was sitting beside Harris.

"Hold still, rookie," he ordered, grabbing the adjuster strap on the helmet that ran under Harris's chin. He pulled at it firmly, and Harris winced slightly. "Yeah, it's uncomfortable now, but trust me, a bullet in your skull would be a hell of a lot more uncomfortable."

"Thank you, sir," Harris replied meekly.

"So you know the doc, huh?" Dom asked, leaning back against the wall of the Armadillo.

"Yeah," Harris answered, sounding a bit more enthused. "She's really nice. Great psychologist, too. You could probably talk to her about the whole thing with your missing wi-"

Harris's sentence was abruptly cut short when a heavy supply kit was hurled straight into his chest, knocking the air out of him and causing him to double over. He glanced up quickly and realized that Baird was giving him a cold scowl while Marcus was giving him a pointed look to try and get him to shut up.

"Hey, Baird, don't go killing the rookie," Dom said dismissively. He looked back over at Harris, who was coughing. "You going to make it?"

"Yeh-yes, sir. Sor-sorry, sir," Harris coughed, pushing the supply kit to the seat beside him.

"Nah, it's cool," Dom replied quickly.

But the tone of his voice indicated that the subject of his missing wife was anything but "cool."

Sighing, Harris looked down at the floor, tapping his fingers against his knees quickly. Oh yeah, he was doing a bang up job of impressing his superiors at this point. When Dom lightly punched his shoulder, Harris about jumped out of his seat.

"Easy, I'm not Baird looking to crush your guts," Dom laughed. "You were saying that you know the doc?"

"Oh...oh, well, yes. She was a fill in professor at Academy and one of the main on campus psychologists. I really like her. She wouldn't just try to make you a freaking candy dispenser of pills and shove them down your throat. She actually, you know...listened."

"Aw, ain't that sweet," Baird crooned, sneering.

"It was nice of her," Harris replied, seeming to miss Baird's derisive tone completely. "Really sad what happened to her..."

"Why?" Baird asked. "What happened to her?"

"Doc Boaz has been captured by Locust twice, sir," Harris answered, looking at Baird steadily, his tone going flat. "Well, I guess technically it's only once. The second time it was just for a few minutes before Sergeant Griggs and his team rescued her. But the first time...yeah, the first time messed her up. Real bad."

Dom and Marcus exchanged quick glances before Dom turned his attention back to Harris.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He was fairly sure that anybody who was around Locust for more than ten seconds were probably scarred for life, but this seemed to be something more.

"Well, when Sergeant Griggs rescued Doc Boaz, she was okay. I mean, she was out of it, you know? Dehydrated, malnourished, and really beat up, but she was still Doc Boaz," Harris explained. He cleared his throat quickly, rubbing his face before continuing. "We got her to the base, but...well, a couple of jackasses decided it'd be funny to get rough with her. Bruised her up and...well..."

"Well what?" Baird demanded tersely.

"Doc Boaz fucking lost her mind," Harris answered quickly, obviously uncomfortable saying what he knew. "She went completely feral. I've never heard a human make those kinds of shrieks and I don't think I ever want to. She beat the living hell out of those guys, and it took four Gears to restrain her long enough for the on-base medic to tranquilize her. And even then it took something like twice the dosage to get her to stop! For about three days after that, Doc Boaz was like some sort of animal. They had to lock her in a cell because she'd freak out if somebody other than me tried to get near her. I mean, she'd let me talk to her, but if I tried to touch her or anything, she'd start screaming and back into a corner."

"...damn," Dom muttered.

"What the fuck did those dumbasses do to her?" Baird hissed.

Again, Marcus and Dom exchanged quick glances, but this time they looked to Baird, who was too focused on waiting for Harris's answer to notice.

"Well, she eventually came to," Harris sighed heavily. "She was sitting in her cell and just by chance heard Griggs talking. And then all of a sudden it was like a switch had clicked on and we had the old Doc Boaz back. It was really sad, too. She started crying and asking why she was handcuffed to the leg of the bed and why she was locked up in a cell. It was like she didn't remember a damn thing of the past three days."

"Shock?" Dom asked.

"Something like that, yeah," Harris answered with a nod. "We asked her about the whole thing afterwards and explained what had happened. Scared the hell out of her, but she said it sounded like some sort of alter ego or whatever had been triggered by the attack. She'd been out in a Locust hot spot for weeks on her own, and all that Doc Boaz could assume was some sort of survival instinct had kicked in and that it'd been able to take over because she was trying to deal with the stress of losing her parents and especially her twin sister. I mean, it made more sense when she explained it, and you can probably ask her about it later, but basically her survival instincts took over everything else because she simply couldn't logically handle any more stress and she refused to roll over and die."

The inside of the Armadillo was silent. They'd all seen the various, sometimes downright twisted, ways that the human mind would react to the horrors and nightmares that had surrounded them. None of them were pleasant memories. Looting, raping, murder, and even cannibalism in some extreme cases. The crisis had brought out either the very best or the very worst in a person, and more often than not, when it came down to it, a person's true colors were far darker than anybody would want to admit.


	3. Chapter 3

Slowly the Armadillo drew to a stop, the brakes drawing out a long squeak. The Delta Team filed out of the Armadillo and looked around carefully. Nothing but dead silence greeted them.

"You sure this is the right place?" Dom whispered to Marcus.

Marcus nodded in response, glancing around.

The mine was in a serious state of disrepair, with one of the three buildings near the primary entrance to the mine completely collapsed. The second appeared to be a large office building of sorts, probably where the workers spent their breaks and lunches. While the third looked to be the remains of a storage and possibly small bar and grill that had probably taken about a third of the paycheck everybody who had worked there. Finally, there was a tall watchtower at the north, and even though one of the four main support beams had started to break, the watchtower still stood...albeit at a threatening angle now.

"Well we missed one hell of a party," Baird grumbled, scanning the place quickly. "And while I'd love to stand here and check out the scenery, daylight's burning and I don't really feel like seeing the inside of a Kryll's stomach."

"Nah, it'd just be bits and pieces of you that did, anyways," Dom chuckled.

"Yeah, well my bits and pieces aren't keen on the idea, either," Baird snapped back.

"Quiet," Marcus ordered quickly. He narrowed his eyes and walked forward carefully, catching a glimpse of movement towards the mine entrance. "We've got company."

The rest of Delta fell in line, and as they approached the mine entrance, a young woman's head suddenly poked out from over a rock. A child's face peeped over as well, but when the woman noticed the child, she quickly pushed him back behind the cover of the rocks. Looking back up at the Gears, she began to shrink back. She looked nothing short of terrified, and Marcus held up a hand, signaling the rest of the team to stop.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dom murmured. "Easy, Delta... Last thing we need is for them to dart off into the mines. We'll never find them then..."

The woman looked over suddenly at the watchtower and stood up from behind the cover of the rocks. She waved her arms quickly, yelling and pointing at the watchtower.

"Goddammit! Shut that bitch up before she brings every Locust in the whole goddamn mine down on us!" Baird snarled.

"What is she saying?" Cole muttered.

As the woman took a few more steps forward, Dom caught the word 'watchtower' and looked up at the leaning structure. He caught sight of a gun barrel protruding from one of the broken windows, and in a couple of split seconds, realized the sights were trained on Harris, who had been watching their left flank

"Shit...! Rookie! Watch your head!" Dom shouted, practically tackling Harris to the ground.

But the shot fired just as Dom shouted his warning, and he heard Harris make a pained whine as they hit the ground. He had also heard the unmistakable sound of a bullet tearing into the thick plating of a helmet.

The rest of the Delta team scrambled for cover against the front face of the office building, while Dom frantically dragged Harris across the ground as another shot whizzed past them and slammed into the hard ground. Another survivor from the mine, a teenage boy from the looks of it, scrambled out and grabbed the woman, dragging her back into the safety of the mine.

"Shit!" Marcus hissed, looking over at Dom. "How's Harris?"

"Not sure!" Dom yelled back, sounding borderline frantic. He quickly rolled Harris back over onto his back, but Harris lay still save for a small trickle of blood running down the front of his neck. "Rookie? Hey! Rookie!"

"We don't even have to worry about the damn grubs!" Baird snapped at Marcus. "The people we're supposed to rescue are doing a damn good job of picking us off already!"

"Rookie! Wake up!" Dom shouted, yanking Harris's helmet off. He felt sick to his stomach, half expecting the back of Harris's skull to be missing, but as he pulled the helmet off, Dom realized that the blood was coming from a cut on the front of Harris's forehead. Turning the helmet over, he saw the bullet buried deep into the right side of the helmet, but it hadn't broken through the last few layers of armor. He leaned forward, patting Harris's face quickly. "Rookie?"

"...ow...fuck, sir, I'm sorry for mentioning the psychologist," Harris groaned, slowly coming to. "I won't mention it ever again, sir. Just please don't hit me again, sir..."

Sitting back on his heels, Dom managed a short laugh before shaking his head and looking over at Marcus. The Delta leader breathed out a short sigh of relief and nodded.

"Get him back on his feet," Marcus ordered quietly. "Then we have to take care of that sniper."

"Is that what happened?" Harris inquired, rubbing the back of his head as Dom helped him to his feet.

"Yeah, remember what I said about a bullet in the skull?" Dom reminded, handing Harris's helmet back to the Private and revealing the bullet lodged in the armor.

Harris's eyes bugged slightly and he lightly prodded at the bullet before looking up at Dom.

"Thank you, sir," he murmured, carefully pulling the helmet back on. He fumbled with the chin strap for a few seconds. "...erm."

"You know, you really need to learn to do this yourself," Dom chuckled, grabbing the chin strap and pulling it snug. "I'm not your damn mother."

"Knowing my mother, sir, she'd probably try to choke me with the chin strap," Harris joked.

"Okay, we get it, you two are a fucking laugh riot. We'll start selling tickets to your stand-up routine when we're back at the base," Baird interrupted hoarsely. "Walk it off, rookie, we've got a wannabe sniper to take out."

"We can probably go through the main building," Cole said, motioning to the large sliding doors of the office building. "Least that way we won't have to worry about being out in the open."

"Yeah, that doesn't end well," Harris grumbled, shaking his head slightly. "I can say that from experience."

"Could've been worse," Cole pointed out."

"Yeah, that's true..."

Walking alongside the wall to the sliding doors, Marcus glanced over them quickly. They were made of reinforced glass, and though there were cracks in the thick material, it looked as though the doors were capable of withstanding anything short of driving the Armadillo straight through them. Glancing over at the control panel to left of the doors, Marcus turned to Baird.

"Any way you can get the controls back online?"

"Step aside, ladies," Baird stated coolly, walking over to the control panel. He glanced it over, then looked over at Marcus. "Power's been cut to it. I can maybe do a bypass for the power, but-"

A tap on the door caused the Delta team to move back quickly, Lancers at the ready. Standing behind the glass was the same woman that had warned them about the sniper in the watchtower, but now she was armed with a double-barreled shotgun. Her thick, dark brown hair was matted and hurriedly combed back, and by the looks of it, she was at least eight months pregnant, if not nine. She stepped back quickly at the sight of the Lancers, but seemed to know that the doors would provide enough cover.

"...shit," Baird hissed. "What the hell does that bitch want now?"

Taking a cautious step towards the doors, the woman spoke loudly against the glass.

"I can let you in," she said. "Just...don't shoot. ...please."

"We're not in the habit of shooting the people we were sent to rescue," Marcus replied. He eyed the shotgun and looked back at the woman. "And is it safe to assume that you don't shoot the people that were sent to rescue you?"

Blinking and then looking down at the shotgun, the woman almost seemed as though she'd forgotten she had the weapon. She looked back to Marcus and eyed him for a few moments, as though debating on whether or not to open the doors. Baird impatiently hit his fist on the door.

"Lady!" he shouted. "You and your little band of merry gun-toting buddies are in a mine that is a grand entrance for every grub in the area! Not to mention you're about forty minutes away from becoming the main course on a Kryll all-you-can-eat buffet, so do you mind to hurry up and open the goddamn doors already?"

"Hey," Dom interjected, hitting Baird's shoulder. "Take it easy."

"Well maybe _your_ bits and pieces want to see the inside of a Kryll, mine, personally, don't."

Though the woman frowned at Baird, she walked away from the doors and to the left wall. The emergency lights within the office building suddenly flickered on and the control panel for the doors lit up, beeping. Marcus quickly reached over and hit the control panel, the doors sliding open.

As the Delta team filed in, the woman stepped back quickly, and the panic on her face indicated she was starting to regret her decision. She looked over the Gears quickly, her breathing starting to pick up. When Marcus turned to her, she almost bolted, and her grip on the shotgun tightened. Stepping between the woman and Marcus, Dom held up a hand.

"Hey," Dom said quietly. "We're here to get you out of this place, okay?"

Looking over at Dom, then back to Marcus, the woman nodded quickly.

"You got a name?" Dom asked.

"...Monica."

"Okay, Monica, do you mind to hand me the gun?" Dom inquired slowly.

Marcus kept quiet, keeping an eye on Monica and Dom. Dealing with Stranded wasn't exactly Marcus's specialty, and if Dom could get the woman to relinquish the shotgun, then all the better.

"I...," Monica stammered. Her gaze flicked over to the half circle desk that had once been used to greet those that had walked into the building.

Following her gaze, Dom saw two small children, a boy and a girl, peeking over the desk at the Gears with wide eyes.

"They yours?" Dom asked, his tone softening.

After a long moment, Monica nodded.

"Okay, look, I promise I'm not going to let anything happen to them," Dom stated, taking a slow step towards Monica. The woman stayed still, looking up at Dom. "But I really need you to hand over the shotgun, okay? Please."

Finally, Monica slowly lifted the gun and handed it over to Dom, who quickly sheathed it on a spare gun hold on the back armor of his gear. The rest of the Delta Team relaxed, and Dom looked over to Marcus, who gave a quick nod of approval.

"You're here for them, aren't you?" Monica asked. "The Gear and that woman."

"We're here to get you all out of here," Dom answered. "How many of you are there?"

"Six."

"Thought there were just four from the reports," Cole said, sounding a bit confused.

"I kept my children hidden," Monica answered flatly. "We were doing okay up until Samson went out of his fucking mind and started shooting the place up."

The little girl behind the desk gasped audibly and Monica quickly looked over, holding up a hand.

"Mommy's just angry. You didn't hear mommy say that word, okay?" she said quickly, pointing at the little girl.

Slowly the little girl nodded her head and disappeared back behind the desk. Dom smiled faintly and then looked back to Monica.

"Samson? That the guy up in the tower?"

"Yes. He's got that woman with him, too. And another young woman, Leena, with him."

"He your husband?"

"No, my cousin," Monica replied back shortly, her gaze falling to the ground. "My husband's dead."

Though Monica missed it, Marcus saw the sympathetic look that Dom gave the young woman.

"Sorry," Dom muttered. "Have you tried talking to him? Samson, I mean."

"I tried," Monica answered, her tone suddenly jumping to frustration. "That idiot wouldn't fucking-mommy's just mad, sweetie-listen to me! I warned him that there'd be more of you armored, er, sorry, more Gears incoming if he pulled this stunt! But he just kept rambling about killing anything that came too close. I managed to get him to let me take the injured Gear back to the mine, but when I tried to get him to let Leena and that other woman go, he threatened to shoot me! And I...I ran." Monica's shoulders slumped, as though she were ashamed of her decision.

"Hey, it's all right" Dom assured quickly. "Least you managed to get the injured to safety, right?"

"I guess so, I-"

"Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!" the boy suddenly started shouting excitedly. He was bouncing up and down behind the desk, pointing at Cole. "It's 83! It's 83!"

"Oh great," Baird grumbled. "Now we've got the little parasites recognizing us."

"Hey now, better to be recognized by a couple fans than a couple Locusts," Cole pointed out. He gave the small boy a wave and a smile, which caused the child to bounce around quickly, talking excitedly to his little sister.

"'Parasites'?" Monica asked, sounding somewhere between offended and confused.

"Pay no attention to Baird," Dom quickly interjected. "If he's not being a bitchy jackass, he's either in a coma or dead."

"Hey fuck you, too," Baird retorted.

Again the little girl gasped.

"Watch your language," Dom snapped back.

"Oh please, I'm pretty sure those little parasites have heard way worse."

"Yeah, well they sure as hell don't need to be hearing it from you, princess," Dom argued. He then realized what he'd said and winced slightly, looking apologetically over at Monica. Monica just shook her head, smiling and waving her hand dismissively.

"We're running out of time," Marcus reminded. He was all for winning the trust of the people they were supposed to get out of this deathtrap, but if they were locked outside of the base and had Kryll swarming all over them, it would all be for nothing. "Baird, you-"

"I'm finding the doc," Baird interrupted, looking pointedly at Marcus.

Pausing, Marcus then nodded, seeming a bit surprised by Baird's tenacity on finding Doctor Boaz.

"Baird, you're with me. We'll go get Doctor Boaz and the other two survivors. Dom, you take Cole and Harris and get the rest of the survivors to the Armadillo. Understood?"

"Got it," Dom replied. He turned to Monica and motioned to the desk. "Mind to get the rugrats?"

"Lily. Orion," Monica said quickly, clapping her hands. "Come here. We have to go."

"Are we going home yet?" Orion asked, walking out from behind the desk, holding his little sister's hand tightly as she followed behind him.

"Not yet, but we're going somewhere safe, okay?" Monica replied, quickly taking Orion's hand. She looked up at Dom. "This way. Just...try to stay behind the building. Samson said he wouldn't shoot me, but if he sees you..."

"Got it." Dom looked over at Cole and Harris. "Might want to keep your heads down, you two. Especially you, Harris. I think your guardian angel is done for the day."

Monica looked at Harris sadly.

"I'm sorry," she said in quiet defeat.

"Not your fault," Harris replied cheerily. "I mean...unless you told him to shoot me specifically."

"No, I wouldn't do that."

"Then no need to be sorry, right?"

Nodding and smiling, Monica turned and led them out of the office through a side door that was typically only for employees. Turning to Baird, Marcus eyed the blonde-haired Gear.

"What is with you?" he asked.

"What?" Baird snapped back.

"You've been fixated on Doctor Boaz ever since we left the base," Marcus replied. The office split into two large hallways, one on either side of the semi-circle desk, and Marcus began walking down the right hallway, the one that would take them closest to the watchtower.

"If I wanted you to know my business, I'd tell you," Baird answered irritably.

Shaking his head, Marcus continued forward. There was no point in arguing with Baird at this time, and if anything, Baird's determination might help get them out of there faster.

()

As they neared the mine, Dom lightly set a hand on Monica's shoulder. Though she gasped, Monica relaxed quickly enough and ducked her head slightly in embarrassment.

"Sorry," she replied. "I'm not...used to-"

"No, my bad," Dom said quickly, lifting his hand. "Kind of forget that this armor isn't exactly popular wardrobe."

"It's fine," Monica answered, smiling. "What did you need?"

"I was just going to ask when these little rugrats of yours were expecting their new sibling?"

"Oh," Monica laughed nervously and lowered her voice. "Erm...two days ago."

The panic that Dom suddenly felt must have been visible, because Monica promptly laughed reassuringly.

"Don't worry. Two kids later, I think I know what to expect."

"...I really, really hope so," Dom murmured, still looking a bit alarmed.

"Corporal Santiago?"  
The weak voice caught all attention, and Dom looked over to see the injured Gear. His helmet had been removed and set aside, and the teenage boy that Delta had seen earlier was carefully dabbing an already blood-soaked gauze pad at a bullet wound on the Gear's left side. Walking over, Dom knelt by the Gear.

"Name and rank, soldier?" Dom asked, even though he could already guess the rank.

"Private Morrison, sir."

"And you?" Dom looked over at the scrawny teenager, who looked back at him with wide eyes.

"Uh...Ethan, sir. ...umm...civilian?"

Nodding and turning his attention back to the wounded Gear, Dom cleared his throat.

"Alright, Private. We're here to get you and these Stranded out of here."

"What about Doctor Boaz? That crazy fuckwad took her hostage."

"Sergeant Fenix and Corporal Baird are going to rescue Doctor Boaz."

"Sergeant Fenix?" Morrison asked in disbelief. "_The_ Sergeant Fenix?"

"Yeah, the one and only," Dom answered with a grin. "They-"

The mine entrance began to rumble and an all too familiar sound of rocks and ground caving in and giving way echoed ominously throughout the inky darkness at the back of the mine.

"Oh no...," Monica whimpered, immediately grabbing her children and shoving them behind her.

"To your feet, Private," Dom ordered quietly, helping Morrison to stand.

Gritting his teeth to bite back a groan of pain, Morrison staggered to his feet. It was then that Dom could see the Private had been shot not once, but twice, in the left side. He sincerely hoped that the same fate hadn't visited Doctor Boaz. Ethan had already handed Morrison his Lancer when a low growl reverberated from the back of the mine.

All Gears immediately readied their Lances, scouring the darkness. Glancing over his shoulder quickly, Dom looked to Monica.

"Walk back as slowly as you can," Dom whispered. "Stick to the walls. We don't want Samson picking us off as we get out of this hole."

Nodding, Monica ushered her children and Ethan to the mouth of the mine, looking over at the Gears quickly. She glanced up at the watchtower and felt her throat tighten.

"Dom...it's Samson," she said in a hushed tone. "I...I think he's watching us."

"Well shit."

()

Keeping a steady gaze on Samson, Eleanor tried to think of a way to get the Longshot and Snub Pistol that Samson was carrying off his person...and then promptly punch him in the face as hard as she could.

Her bottom lip was still bleeding and her lower jaw ached from where Samson had lost his temper as Eleanor had tried to argue for Leena's release, and Eleanor was none too happy at being struck, regardless of how out of it a person sounded.

Leena was in a corner of the room, her short black hair a tangled mess, and sobbing quietly. Samson had had yet another screaming fit at her just a few minutes ago, and while Eleanor had long since grown immune to Samson's outbursts, Leena had not.

_Patient is exhibiting symptoms of a psychological break, most likely brought on by stress and the feeling of being threatened by armed soldiers,_ the professor-like mental voice in Eleanor's head explained. _While the possibility for dissociative personality disorder is present, it is still highly unlikely._

"There's more of them!" Samson hissed angrily, staring down the sights of the Longshot. "Why'd they bring more?"

Turning to Eleanor, Samson gave her an accusing glare and jabbed a finger at her.

"You brought them, didn't you? I told you I'd shoot any more of them!"

"They arrived because one of their own was injured," Eleanor answered flatly. "They do not leave their own behind."

"Shut the fuck up, you lying bitch!" Samson screamed suddenly, storming over and raising a hand. "You're with them! You're no better than them! You're just like them!"

Leena made a panicked squeal as Samson's palm struck across Eleanor's face, but Eleanor made no noise. She refused to. Growling loudly in frustration, Samson slapped Eleanor again, and again she kept her lips tightly pressed together, refusing to give Samson any sort of indication that he was winning. Suddenly reaching down, Samson grabbed Eleanor's jaw hard enough to cause a fresh rivulet of blood to trickle from her cut lip. He hoisted her up, forcing her to her feet.

"Tell them to go away," Samson ordered angrily.

A bone-chilling roar followed by the clatter of Lancer gunfire suddenly erupted through the air, and Samson looked out the window of the watchtower in panic. Eleanor kept her now almost blank stare on Samson.

"Which ones? The Gears? Or the Locust?" she asked, unable to hide the smug tone in her voice.

()

"Go! GO!" Dom ordered, urging the Stranded to run towards the Armadillo.

The Locust had come in a pack of Wretches and at least two Drones that Dom had seen before they had fled the mine. Cole and Harris were taking turns laying down covering fire as they raced towards the Armadillo, which seemed to be miles, instead of just feet, away. It was the children that were slowing them down, but there was nobody that could carry them without either having to slow down themselves or cut their accuracy with a Lancer by at least three-quarters.

The sound of clanking metal and then a low whistle immediately grabbed Dom's attention, and he glanced over his shoulder, seeing a Frag Grenade hurtling towards them.

Orion was right in its path.

Reacting out of instinct, Dom shoved Orion towards Cole, Harris, and Morrison, while he grabbed Monica, who had an iron grip on Lily's hand, and dragged her out of the way.

"Orion!" Monica shrieked.

Seeing the grenade, Cole had already reached down and scooped up Orion promptly, darting out of the way and shielding Orion from the blast of the grenade. Dom had dragged a now frantic Monica and Lily back towards the office building, and while they had been spared the blast of the grenade, they were now cut off by a seemingly endless rain of gunfire.

"Go! Get them to the Armadillo! We'll catch up!" Dom ordered to Cole.

"Orion!" Monica shrieked, holding out her hand. "I can't leave my son!"

"Listen to me!" Dom cried, grabbing Monica's face and forcing her to look at him. "Listen! We're not leaving anybody behind, and especially not your son! But I need you to stay with me!"

Nodding frantically, Monica gripped Dom's arm tightly, holding onto him as he led her and Lily back into the office building. They were now at the middle of the main left hallway, and Dom could already hear the Drones breaking through a weak spot on the wall.

"Keep running!"

Monica's breathing was becoming more and more labored, and Dom knew they could only keep running for so much longer before he would be forced to carry Monica to the Armadillo. The Drones suddenly tore through into the hallway, and as he glanced over his shoulder, Dom saw the Locust taking aim at Monica and Lily.

Painful memories rapidly resurfaced, and Dom threw himself between the bullets and the two fleeing Stranded, wrapping an arm around Monica and pulling her and Lily behind the safety of the lobby wall. He heard Monica cry out and she staggered, clutching at her stomach.

"Shit...!" Dom hissed. He crawled over to Monica quickly, practically carrying Lily in one arm. "Monica! Monica! Are you okay?"

"No," Monica answered, her voice strained and tiny. She gripped at her stomach tightly, wincing but managing a weak, nervous smile. "I think...we have a problem..."

"Oh fuck me," Dom groaned.

()

"Get moving!" Samson roared at Eleanor and Leena, prodding at Leena's back with the Longshot. "Go, you stupid cows! Go!"

Leena was in hysterics, but Eleanor was more worried as to what was going to happen to them when they reached the bottom of the stairwell from the watchtower.

The Locust would descend on them without mercy, and Samson would be ripped to ribbons in less than a minute, which left Eleanor and Leena unarmed and at the nonexistent mercy of the Locust.

When they reached the base of the stairwell, Samson angrily shoved the barrel of the Longshot against Eleanor's lower back.

"Open the fucking door," he hissed.

Obeying quietly, Eleanor opened the door as slowly and silently as possible, feeling the blast of dry, hot air from the parched outside. Leena was still sobbing, but she at least had the sense to fall quiet, especially upon hearing the snarls and roared orders from the Locust, promptly followed by the clatter of gunfire. Samson looked around, using the two women as a shield just in case one of the Locust attacked.

Her eyes flicked around quickly as Eleanor scanned for any Locust in immediate view. So far, they were safe, but it was only a matter of time before Samson's bellowing attracted much unwanted attention. Taking in a short breath, Eleanor looked ahead steadily, feeling as though there was a clock quietly ticking in the back of her mind.

"Listen to me," she said steadily.

"Shut up," Samson snapped.

"Those Locust are going to find us," Eleanor continued, ignoring Samson. "They will find us. They will kill us. Or worse. Unless you stop acting like an idiot and let us go with the Gears."

"I said shut up!" Samson barked. He swung the Longshot like a bat, the barrel hitting Eleanor in the lower back.

Leena shrieked shortly as Eleanor staggered, and that's when Eleanor heard them. The familiar, nail-against-chalkboard howls of Wretches.

"Here they come," Eleanor murmured, looking ahead.

The pack of Wretches, what looked to be five in all, rounded the corner of the office building and almost instantly locked on to the three. Leena screamed, this time without reservation, and Samson fired off a shot from the Longshot blindly. Flinching and jerking her head away, Eleanor gritted her teeth against the sharp ringing in her ears. The shot missed completely, and if anything, just seemed to give the Wretches more of a reason to attack.

"Run!" Eleanor shouted, grabbing Leena's wrist.

Samson started to turn the Longshot on Eleanor, but was sent sprawling to the ground as the first Wretch tackled him. Eleanor felt her stomach lurch as she heard Samson's pained screams as he was ripped apart, but there was no time to be ill.

"Get inside!" Eleanor ordered, dragging Leena towards an emergency back entrance to the main office building.

As they neared the door, however, sparks began to fly from the doorknob, and Eleanor skidded to a stop, effectively stopping Leena as well. Drones. Drones with Lancers they'd stolen. Most likely from the corpses of the Gears that they'd killed.

Things had just gotten much, much worse.

Looking around quickly, Eleanor snatched up a pick-axe. The idea was laughable enough, that she would take on a Drone carrying a Lancer while she was armed with just a pick-axe, but if she was going to die, Eleanor was determined to take at least one of the bastards to Hell with her.

"Get ready to run," Eleanor said quickly, backing up.

"Run where?" Leena cried.

Glancing over her shoulder, Eleanor saw the Wretches, all five of them covered in gore and blood dripping from their jaws, slinking towards them. They were picking up speed, though, and now it was just a matter of being mowed down by gunfire or ripped apart by Wretches.

The emergency door suddenly ripped open with a metallic shriek, and Eleanor hoisted the pick-axe up with every ounce of strength she could muster, screaming angrily.

"Whoa! Watch it, you crazy bitch!"

Stopping, Eleanor blinked, finding herself staring at Baird, who had already lifted his Lancer defensively and was eyeing the pick-axe a little nervously. Marcus was right behind Baird, and gave Eleanor a slightly confused look before spotting the Wretches.

"Get down!" Marcus ordered, raising his Lancer.

Dropping the pick-axe and yanking Leena down to the ground with her, Eleanor hit the ground hard, as Marcus and Baird opened fire on the shrieking Wretches. Scrunching her nose up against the stench of their dark blood, Eleanor coughed and began to crawl towards Marcus and Baird slowly, pulling Leena along with her. She could hear the bullets making a loud 'pakt' noise as they ripped into the Wretches, but Eleanor didn't dare look back.

Finally, much to the rejoicing of her eardrums, the Lancer fire subsided. Baird let his Lancer lean against his shoulder momentarily as he looked at the dead Wretches.

"Shit yeah!" he laughed. "Little fuckers got their last meal of lead and dirt."

"Doubt that's what they had picked out on the menu, though," Marcus muttered, eyeing the Wretch corpses. He then looked over to Eleanor and Leena, who were slowly standing up. Leena looked about ready to throw up, but Eleanor was dusting herself off as quickly as she could.

"...I think I'm going to be sick," Leena whimpered.

"No you're not," Eleanor retorted, turning and starting to dust Leena off.

"What the hell way was that to greet your rescue team?" Baird demanded, glaring at Eleanor. "You could've taken an eye out with that thing."

"I thought you were Drones," Eleanor answered flatly, still working on dusting Leena off.

Baird stopped and scowled at Eleanor, looking none too pleased at the idea that he had been mistaken for a Drone.

"Look, doc," he snapped back, pointing a finger at her. "Unlike those walking turds with teeth, I actually showered last night and brushed my goddamn teeth."

"That's nice. Would you like a little gold sticky star?" Eleanor sighed, looking at Baird in exasperation. "It's too bad I can't tell you showered, though."

"Would you two quit your flirting and get your asses in gear?" Marcus interrupted, looking between the two. He then nodded at Leena. "You all right?"

"No, no I am not all right!" Leena cried. "We were fine until you guys showed up!"

"Well, if you're so offended by our presence, we're more than happy to leave your crabby ass here," Baird snapped back.

"Baird," Eleanor said sharply, giving him a pointed look. "We've just spent the last few hours with a Longshot pointed at our skulls while some lunatic screamed at us before watching said lunatic get eaten alive by Wretches. She's a bit frazzled, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, well, they make pills for that level of bitch-i-tude, and she could-" Baird stopped and nodded his head slightly at Eleanor. "Your lip's bleeding."

"Samson kept hitting her," Leena said quickly, looking over Eleanor and using her shirt sleeve to wipe the blood away, regardless of Eleanor's quiet protests.

"Hey, wait...who hit her?" Baird asked angrily.

"Samson," Leena answered. "...the one that just got eaten."

"Marcus! Yo, Marcus! This is Cole!" Cole's voice suddenly crackled in over the tac comm Marcus had in his ear.

"Go ahead, Cole," Marcus said, pressing his fingers against the comm device.

"We're about to get swarmed out here, baby! They've got Drones that are going ballistic and it's takin' everything we got to hold them off! Sure wouldn't mind if you and blondie decided to help out!"

"We're on our way. We've got the doc and another survivor. Just hang on," Marcus said quickly. He then looked up and jerked his head in the direction of the Armadillo, starting to run in that direction. "Let's go, people! The Armadillo's getting swarmed and if we lose that, we're all going to be Kryll chow."

"Oh those grubs had better not put one scratch on that thing," Baird growled, falling in pace with Marcus. "I'll rip their goddamn spines out and beat them to death with them!"

As they began running down the length of the main office building, the combat noises grew louder, but suddenly the tac comm crackled back on. This time it was Dom.

"Marcus!"

"Dom?" The panic in Dom's voice made Marcus slow down, and he held up a hand, stopping the others.

"Goddammit, Marcus! We lost one! Little kid! His name's Orion! He fucking ran off! He was scared of the Drones! I tried to catch him but there's this-"

A bone-rattling shriek suddenly filled the air, overpowering every other noise in the vicinity.

"Kantus!" Baird shouted, looking up at the roof of the office building.

Sure enough, there he was. A tall, armored Kantus, its forked tongue curling through the air as it screamed towards the heavens.

"That would be why the goddamn Drones are in such a frenzy!" Marcus shouted, taking aim at the Kantus and firing. "Shut that bastard up for good!"

"Run to the Armadillo!" Baird yelled as he opened fire on the Kantus, shoving Leena in the direction of the vehicle, assuming that Eleanor would follow.

But Eleanor had frozen in place. She knew the Kantus. She remembered him. She wasn't sure how she could remember one Kantus out of the hordes of them that seemed to be in existence, but something deep inside her told her that she knew this one. And as the Kantus turned his gaze to Eleanor, seeming to ignore the Lancer bullets that pinged against his armor, it seemed that the recognition was mutual.

"Boaz...," the thing hissed, its tongue flicking out slowly, as though it were tasting the name.

Both Marcus and Baird paused for a split second.

"Did that thing just...?" Baird looked over to where Eleanor had been. But she was gone. "Eleanor?"

Baird felt his chest clench when he saw Eleanor sprinting back towards the watchtower, away from them and away from the Armadillo.

"Eleanor!" Marcus roared, trying to stop the woman before she turned the corner.

But Eleanor didn't stop. In fact, she could barely hear Marcus over the panicked ringing in her ears. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest, and she raced towards where she knew Samson's corpse, or what was left of it would be. No, no, no...the Locust wouldn't get her again. She would make sure of that.

The Kantus made a short cackle and let a smoke grenade fall from his claws. The resulting explosion put a thick, choking cloud of onyx fumes into the air, and the Kantus promptly disappeared from view. But both Marcus and Baird had a good idea as to where the Kantus was heading.

"Goddammit!" Marcus snarled.

"Shit! That fucking thing knew her name!" Baird cried, already heading back to chase after Eleanor. "Eleanor!"

"Dom!" Marcus yelled into the tac comm, almost crushing it into his ear under his fingers. "There's a Kantus running around! Goddamn thing knew the doc's name and she's run off! We're going to get her, but you should have another survivor running your way! We'll try to find the kid on our way!"

"Oh man, this just keeps getting better and better!" Dom groaned. "Well, you might want to hurry! We're running out of daylight and bullets! Oh yeah, and Monica's gone into labor!"

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Marcus snarled.

"Wish I was, bro!" Dom yelled back. "In any case, bust your asses and get the doc and the kid! His name's Orion! Little guy, but he's fast as hell!"

"Shit, shit, shit!" Marcus hissed as he and Baird began running after Eleanor. They had no idea where she would have run to by this point, and it was a very deadly guessing game to play.

"Why the hell would she run off like that?" Baird demanded breathlessly. "Bitch is going to get her dumb ass killed!"

"What would you do if one of those things said your name?" Marcus asked. Part of him actually wanted to know the answer...

"Just reply with, 'Sorry! Wrong Baird! The Baird you're looking for is in another castle!'"

"Yeah, I'll bet you would, princess."

The two reached the end of the main office and looked both ways, trying to see any sign of Eleanor. Unfortunately, there was none. There was, however, the faint, almost inaudible sound of a child sobbing, and Marcus looked over to the emergency door that he and Baird had ripped through minutes earlier.

Almost hidden in a broom closet across from the doorway, was Orion. He was huddled behind a pile of boots and soot-covered jackets, and crying quietly.

"Shit," Marcus muttered, taking a slow step towards the kid. "Orion?"

Looking up quickly, Orion made a quiet whimper and tried to scoot further back into the broom closet, a fresh bout of tears streaming down his face.

"Grab the little parasite and let's go!" Baird hissed. "We still have to find the doc and we are about to be out of daylight completely!"

"Kid, come on," Marcus said, walking carefully to the broom closet. He tried to keep his voice as even-toned as possible, because he was fairly certain that raising his voice would do nothing but frighten Orion into running off. "Orion, come on. We gotta' get you back to your mom now, okay?"

Orion sniffled loudly, but didn't budge.

"Come on, kid," Marcus continued, slowly holding his hand out. He could hear Baird pacing behind him impatiently, and Marcus sincerely wished that Baird would calm down just long enough for him to get Orion out of the broom closet. "Don't worry about the blonde idiot behind me. He's not going to do anything."

Sniffling again, Orion slowly stood up and looked as though he was about to run off again, but when a grimly familiar Kantus shriek rattled the air, Orion wailed and ran into Marcus, clinging at his armor. Marcus staggered slightly in surprise, but quickly snatched Orion up and stood, looking over at Baird.

Baird was looking off in the direction of the Kantus's screaming, and for the first time in a long time, Marcus saw desperate panic on the blonde-haired Gear's face.

"Baird!" Marcus said sharply. "Let's go!"

()

Yelling in fury as he opened fire on the advancing Locust, Dom gritted his teeth against the recoil of the Lancer. He could hear the panicked whimpering of the Stranded they had managed to rescue so far, as well as the occasional, stifled cry from Monica, who had gone into hysterics when Orion had run off. They were tucked away into the Armadillo, but it would only provide so much cover. And if one of the Locust managed to get to the Armadillo, they would be ripped to shreds.

"Harris!" Dom shouted.

"Sir?" Harris yelled back. He was at the front of the Armadillo, firing madly at a pack of Wretches as they darted towards him.

"How you doing over there?" Dom managed a forced laugh. "Can't have you getting kidnapped now!"

"Oh I'm having the time of my life!" Harris shouted back, swinging the Lancer around and ripping the chainsaw teeth across the face of a Wretch that got too close. It shrieked and staggered back, clutching at its now profusely bleeding lower jaw. Harris promptly finished it off with a burst of gunfire, and then looked over at the Armadillo. So far he, Dom, and Cole had managed to fend the Locust off, but it was only a matter of time before they ran out of bullets.

"Hey, Cole!" Dom called. "You doing okay?"

"Hell to the yeah, baby!" Cole replied. "It's gonna' take a lot more than a bunch of hyped up Drones to derail the Cole Train!"

"Sir the Locust keep coming!" Harris yelled.

"Yeah, they're tenacious bastards!" Dom shouted back. Glancing over at the Sun as it had just started to kiss the horizon, Dom pressed his fingers against the tac comm in his ear. "Marcus! We're running out of time, bro!"

()

"We're almost there, Dom! I got the kid!" Marcus replied. "We're making our way back through the office building and should be there shortly!"

"Thank God," Dom breathed.

Marcus could hear Dom shouting to Monica that Orion had been found, and even through all the racket of the gunfire and Locust screaming, Marcus could hear Monica's relieved, nervous laughter.

"Doc!" Baird called, quickly looking inside one of the storage rooms.

"Come on, come on!" Marcus urged. Looking over his shoulder quickly, Marcus searched for Baird. The blonde-haired Gear was running quickly through the rooms of the main office building as they made their way down the hallway. Marcus could hear the desperation in Baird's voice, but Baird was also costing them valuable time.

"Doc!" Baird shouted. "Doctor Boaz!"

"Baird! She's not here!" Marcus yelled over his shoulder. "She's probably outside! There's no way she would stay in this hell!"

But Baird didn't seem convinced, and he continued to go through every room. Grumbling under his breath, Marcus looked back down the hallway. He could hear the Drones gaining on them, and it would only be a matter of time before they were raining bullets down on Marcus and Baird.

Orion still tightly clung to Marcus's armor, his breathing quick and panicked. Suddenly, the left wall at the end of the hallway gave way and exploded into splinters as a Drone tore through the wood. Sprinting the last bit of the hallway, Marcus rounded the corner just as the first few bullets whizzed by.

But Baird had been cut off. And judging by the wild string of curses Marcus could hear, Baird was none too pleased with that fact.

"Baird?" Marcus yelled, trying to be heard over the gunfire.

"Go, go!" Baird ordered. "I can get out on my own! Get that damn parasite out of here!"

Marcus hesitated for a moment, but at the sound of glass breaking, he realized that Baird was already escaping. Still cradling Orion in one arm, Marcus ran down the hallway towards the main exit. The Drones were, fortunately, checking each room for survivors, and that would give Marcus more than enough time to escape. He could only hope he could say the same for Baird.

()

Sprinting alongside the wall of the office building, Baird looked around quickly. He struggled to catch his breath, but Baird refused to stop. He couldn't leave Eleanor out here to die. And he had no doubt in his mind that that goddamn Kantus was hunting her.

The fucking thing had known her _name_.

As his boots hammered against the parched ground, Baird tried to think of any place that Eleanor would have run to. She wouldn't go into the mine. She may have been scared, but she wasn't that terrified or that stupid. At least, Baird hoped she wasn't...

Baird found himself back at the watchtower. His lungs were on fire by this point, and the sun had already halfway set.

"No, no, no," he grumbled, looking around wildly. "Come on, doc. Just tell me where you are. You love running your yap all the time anyways. Now's the time to use it!"

Miraculously enough, Baird heard Eleanor's panicked shriek come from off behind the watchtower. And though he was relieved to hear that she was at least alive, Baird's blood went cold when he heard the Kantus's shriek cut Eleanor's scream short.

"Eleanor!" Baird yelled, charging in the direction of Eleanor's scream. "Hang on, doc!"

Quickly activating his tac comm, Baird struggled to get enough air to even talk into the damn thing, let alone talk and run at the same time.

"Marcus!" Baird shouted. "I think I've got Eleanor! That Kantus is hunting her like a cat goes after a mouse!"

"I don't care if he's trying to ask her out to the prom!" Marcus replied. "Kill that sucker and get the doc out of there. We're about to have Kryll!"

Gripping his Lancer tightly, Baird sprinted forward. Horrifyingly enough, Baird found himself wanting to cut the Kantus in half just as badly if the goddamn thing was trying to ask Eleanor to a prom.

"...I am so fucking screwed," Baird murmured in bitter defeat to himself.


End file.
